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“Was it?”
He was watching her mouth now, his eye narrowed and intent, and she wondered if he was remembering their kiss. She’d vowed not to repeat it. Involving herself with this man would be yet another example of rushing into folly without a thought for the danger. But as he raised his gaze and met her eyes, she knew.
Dangerous as it was, this folly was beginning to look very tempting, indeed.
* * *
AFTER TEA, ALISTAIR spent the remainder of the afternoon in his tower, not only because he wanted to finish the section on badgers, but also because he feared that if he lingered much longer near his seductive housekeeper, he might do something truly foolish. And besides, he was certain Sophia was harrying the help to clean the castle. He would be smart to stay well away from that.
So it was evening before he saw Mrs. Halifax again. He’d just come from his rooms, having remembered to clean up before dinner and even pull out a decent coat and breeches so his sister wouldn’t scold too badly. Mrs. Halifax had also decided to wear her best, it seemed. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, watching her before she saw him. She’d worn the same blue frock every day since she’d come to the castle, but tonight she had on a green and gold gown, much too rich for a housekeeper, and what was worse, it revealed even more of her creamy bosom. Suddenly Alistair was glad that he’d taken the time to club his hair back and shave.
She turned and saw him at that moment, and for a second she paused, her blue eyes wide and vulnerable, her lovely cheeks pink and innocent. He should simply turn and remount the stairs. Lock himself in his tower and order her from his castle and his life. She hoped for some starry future, and he knew he had none.
Instead he strolled toward her. “You seem to have everything well in hand for dinner, Mrs. Halifax.”
She looked distractedly into the dining room. “I think it’ll do. Let me know if the service isn’t properly done. Tom’s still learning about serving soup.”
“Oh, but you’ll be there to observe,” he said, taking her arm. “Have you forgotten our bargain to dine together? You were quite adamant about my part last night.”
“But your sister!” Her cheeks flamed. “She’ll think that… that… you know.”
“What she’ll think is that I’m eccentric, and that she already knows.” He watched her sardonically. “Come, Mrs. Halifax, this is no time for missish nerves. Where are your children?”
She looked, if possible, even more scandalized. “In the kitchen, but you can’t—”
He beckoned to one of the maids. “Fetch Mrs. Halifax’s children, please.”
The maid hurried off. He arched an eyebrow down at his housekeeper. “There. You see. Quite simple.”
o;Very well,” the taller lady said. “I am Miss Sophia Munroe, Sir Alistair’s sister, and this is Miss Phoebe McDonald.”
“How do you do?” Helen curtsied again.
“Very pleased to meet you,” Miss McDonald beamed, her plump, red cheeks shining. She seemed to have forgotten that Helen was a servant.
“Won’t you come this way?” Helen said politely. “Um… is Sir Alistair expecting you?”
“Of course not,” Miss Munroe said promptly as she stepped inside the castle. “If he was, he wouldn’t be here.” She took off her hat and frowned around the hall. “He is here, isn’t he?”
“Oh, yes,” Helen said, taking both ladies’ hats. She looked about the hall and finally laid them on a marble table. Hopefully it wasn’t too dusty. “I’m sure he’ll be quite pleased to know you’ve come to visit.”
Miss Munroe snorted. “Then you’re more sanguine than I.”
Helen thought it best not to reply to that comment. Instead, she led her guests to the sitting room that she’d set the maids to cleaning, crossing her fingers that things had progressed since luncheon.
But when she opened the door, Tom the footman was sneezing explosively, his head covered in an enormous dusty cobweb, and both Meg and Nellie were giggling uncontrollably. The servants straightened at her entrance, and Nellie slapped a hand over her mouth to contain her laughter.
Helen sighed and turned back to the ladies. “Perhaps you’d prefer to wait in the dining room. It’s the only entirely neat room in the castle, I’m afraid—barring the kitchen.”
“Not at all.” Miss Munroe swept into the room and stared critically at the moth-eaten row of stuffed animal heads that lined one wall. “Phoebe and I can direct matters here whilst you fetch Alistair.”
Helen nodded and left the servants behind with the ladies. As she mounted the stairs, she could hear Miss Munroe barking orders. She hadn’t seen Sir Alistair since their argument this morning in the kitchen. The truth was that she’d been avoiding him, she’d even sent Meg up with his luncheon instead of delivering it herself. In fact, she realized as she made the third floor, she wasn’t completely sure that Sir Alistair was lurking in his tower room. For all she knew, he’d decided to take one of his rambles.
But when she knocked at the door to the tower, Sir Alistair’s deep voice rasped, “Come.”
She opened the door and stepped into the tower. Sir Alistair was at the biggest table, bent over a book with a magnifying glass in his hand.
He spoke without looking up. “Have you come to distract me from my work, Mrs. Halifax?”
